Beyond The Veil

What Does It Mean To See Beyond The Veil?

There’s a phrase that carries deep spiritual weight: "seeing beyond the veil." I hear it a lot in Ram Dass’s teachings and from other spiritual teachers. Though it sounds poetic, even mystical, it holds practical and transformative meaning.

To see beyond the veil means to look past appearances, roles, and ego. It asks us to examine the why behind our habits, the origin of our reactions, and the truth beneath the surface performance. It's not about finding what is "wrong" with us—because on a soul level, there is nothing wrong. We are whole. But life shapes us. Emotional pain from childhood, heartbreak, and survival imprint responses in us: ways we protect, close off, over function, or disappear. These are not flaws; they are intelligent adaptations. Yet when left unexamined, they become unconscious cages.

To see beyond the veil is to pause and ask:

*"How am I showing up in life? From habit, or from choice?" "Are the ways I protect myself now costing me connection?" "Am I willing to evolve, or am I just trying to stay 'not wrong'?"

Many people claim wholeness but refuse to examine their patterns. There's a kind of false spiritual bypassing in the statement we hear nowadays from psychologists, teachers, parents, friends to avoid traumas like shame, fear, inadequacy: “There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect as you are.” This is true, in essence, on the soul level, because when we are born, we are born whole, pure, perfect, but then we start learning that we are not perfect - “When a parent gets angry at us. When a teacher calls us names. When a friend leaves us, etc.” We slowly start to unlearn our wholeness. Without integration, without remembering the wholeness in us, simply stating; “I know nothing is wrong with me” can be misinterpreted and become a barrier in one’s evolution.

True integration means we can hold both truths:

1."I am whole."

2."And I carry patterns born from pain, which may be shaping my present and future."

This requires humility. Curiosity. The willingness to ask, *"Have my survival strategies become limitations?"

Seeing beyond the veil is not about self-judgment; it is about self-honesty. It is recognizing that:

Presence without awareness becomes performance.

Devotion without self-inquiry becomes codependence.

Blind spots aren’t shameful; they are invitations to awaken.

This is a call for emotional maturity. To stop reinforcing the veil. To see with clear eyes. And to commit to truth—not comfort.

Once we are able to see beyond the veil, initially there’s tremendous discomfort. We start to feel a shift deep within. These are not abstract teachings. These are patterns to notice and name—in oneself, in relationships, and in any system where truth is sacrificed for safety. Here is what becomes unsustainable when integrity is required:

1. Emotional Absence

Being physically present but emotionally checked out creates a slow erosion of trust. Real presence requires attunement, active listening, and willingness to engage.

2. Inconsistency Between Words and Actions

Words without follow-through create confusion and disconnection. Integrity aligns what is said with what is done.

3. Avoidance of Emotional Responsibility

When one person initiates all repair, reflection, or accountability, the balance breaks. Emotional integrity means acknowledging impact and co-owning growth.

4. Deflecting or Minimizing Another’s Truth

To dismiss someone’s needs or experiences is to reject their humanity. Holding space without defensiveness is part of emotional maturity.

5. Using Busyness or Stress as a Shield

Life is full. But connection cannot survive on leftovers. Wholeness requires prioritizing presence even amidst responsibility.

6. Avoiding Shared Vision or Mutual Growth

Without clarity on shared direction, connection becomes stagnant. Any meaningful path must include both alignment and evolution.

This is the line many eventually face: to stay asleep to the veil, or to rise and meet life’s call with eyes wide open.

The path forward demands discernment, not judgment. And the courage to say: "If it no longer aligns with truth, I release it. If it reflects growth and mutual presence, I choose it."

---

Love in Practice: A Tool for Seeing the Truth

If you want to see beyond the veil, try this simple but powerful practice. It is called Love in Practice because it invites us to turn truth into a lived experience—not just a concept.

1. The Mirror Prompt (Self-Inquiry)

Sit quietly and ask yourself:

Where am I performing instead of being?

Where am I avoiding responsibility for how I show up?

Where am I pretending to be fine just to keep peace? Write your answers without judgment. Just notice.

2. The Breath of Return

Practice this breath when you feel reactive or distant from your truth:

Inhale for 4 counts

Hold for 4 counts

Exhale for 5 counts Repeat 3 times. Let your body soften.

3. The Reframe Affirmation

Speak this aloud or write it down:

> "I am whole. I am willing to see myself clearly. I meet my truth with love, not fear."

4. Take One Aligned Action

Choose one area where you're currently out of alignment—a relationship, habit, or belief.

Ask:

What would love in practice do here? Then do it. Gently. Without needing to fix everything all at once.

---

Seeing beyond the veil is not a final destination—it's a daily return. And each time we choose honesty over habit, love over protection, and presence over performance, we create a life rooted in what is real.

Beyond the Veil - A Sanctuary. A visual threshold between protection and presence - where truth becomes love in practice.

The Soft Power of Surrender

Somewhere between the breath we hold and the one we release is a place the mind cannot touch.

That’s where surrender lives. Not as a letting go of life—but a leaning into its rhythm.

We’ve been taught to clutch: to outcomes, to plans, to the ache of wanting things just so.

We name this responsibility, but beneath it is fear, disguised as strategy. The ego whispers:

“If I picture it enough, it will happen.”

“If I anticipate every twist, I’ll be safe.”

“If I don’t loosen my grip, I won’t lose.”

But the soul knows otherwise.

Surrender isn’t silence; it’s a sacred listening. It isn’t passivity; it’s alignment.

It’s not giving up the dream— it’s releasing the need to chase it down.

We don’t stop desiring. We just stop believing desire needs to drag life by the wrist.

Because nothing true asks to be wrestled. And what’s meant will not require your exhaustion.

Surrender is the courage to say:

“I am here. Use me as you will.”

It’s trust without timeline.

It’s devotion without demand.

When we unclench, we release the resistance, and life begins to flow in.

Not always in the way we imagined—but often in the way we secretly longed for, beneath the noise.

Let the Mystery breathe.

Let your heart be surprised.

Let the universe do what only it can.

---

Self-Questions

What have I been holding too tightly?

What would trust feel like in my body today?

Can I allow life to move through me, not around me?

Affirmations

I am held by something greater than my plans.

I soften into what I cannot control.

My peace is not performance-based.

I do not chase what is already mine.

A river flow - no resistance -only subtle force

Who meets Who?

Real connection doesn’t begin in the mind. It doesn’t bloom in what we organize, plan, or perfect.

It begins in the space where our humanness spills out—In the awkward pause, the shared laughter, the unfiltered truth.

That’s where we meet.

Not as curated versions of ourselves,

But as living, breathing mirrors of one another.

We don’t connect through logistics. We connect through shared humanness—Messy, flawed, uncertain, gloriously real. But we forget. Somewhere between the calendar invites, the perfectly timed texts, and the performative “I’m fine,” we started believing that connection is clean. Predictable. Optimizable.

Like a schedule to be managed instead of a soul to be met.

Ram Dass said it best—

We are vast networks of thought. “We walk into the world with these giant mind nets.”

Mental projections built on wounds, memories, identities, roles.

So when we meet someone, what we are really doing is saying: “This is who I think I am.” And the other person is saying: “This is who I think I am.”

So who meets who?

Is it any wonder we feel alone,

Even in a room full of smiles?

We’ve become fluent in mind-speak—analysis, assumptions, appearances.

But we’ve grown shy around soul-speak—vulnerability, stillness, truth.

Why have we lost our humanness?

Why do we hide behind this massive scaffolding of mind?

Maybe because it feels safer.

The mind is tidy.

It has folders, categories, blueprints.

The heart?

It trembles. It leaks. It doesn't always know.

But here’s the truth we can no longer ignore: real connection isn’t tidy.

It’s wild, inconvenient, humbling. It happens in the cracks—when the mask slips, when the story pauses, when the breath catches and you say : “I don’t know, but I want to know you.”

So today,

Can we be less impressive and more honest?

Can we meet—not as projections,

But as people?

Because the world doesn’t need more polished selves.

It needs more real ones.

---

Affirmation

I release the need to perform. I meet others as I am—imperfect, real, enough.

Real connection doesn’t ask for language.

Knowledge: enough?

“The mind is a beautiful servant and a lousy master.”

“We have learned to give the intellect so much juice.”

-Ram Dass

We give knowledge so much power in our world.

We chase facts, study patterns, name behaviors. We think if we can just understand, we’ll be above, safer, more powerful.

But understanding isn’t the same as holding.

Information isn’t transformation.

Wisdom isn’t knowledge, isn’t accumulation of information. WISDOM - TRUE WISDOM - requires deep COMPASSION. And deep compassion arises in the center of our heart. It is where the center of creation resides.

The mind knows what the mind knows - it thinks about things. The mind is a brilliant organizer.

It thinks. It calculates. It tries to make sense.

But the heart—the heart doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t need to.

It simply knows through feeling.

Still, we keep asking our intellect to carry burdens it was never designed to hold: To explain grief. To solve love. To map out the ache of being human.

“Even Henry Kissinger, and others among the world’s high-elite intellectuals, couldn’t ultimately solve the world’s problems.” - Ram Dass

Because, as Ram Dass reminded us, these problems aren’t just political or strategic.

They’re human.

And the heart can’t be bypassed—not by power, not by intellect, not even by the sharpest minds on the planet.

So, the challenge is: how do we find a balance between the intellect and the intuitive heart?

Balance isn’t abandoning thought.

It’s learning how to let the soul speak first,

and the mind follow in reverence.

Let intellect serve.

Let love guide.

That’s where wisdom lives.

What would it look like today to let the heart lead?

Let intellect serve. Let love guide.

Soil for the Soul

What Does It Mean to Create a Safe Space for another?

Inspired by the teachings of Ram Dass

What does it truly mean — to create a safe space for someone you love?

Someone you love can be your child, your parent, your partner, your friend. This is not just about romance — it’s about the heart’s connection in any form. Anyone you care for deeply can be held in this way.

Ram Dass once said: “A safe space means you don’t have an agenda.” That when you offer someone space to be exactly who they are — without pushing, without molding, without trying to fix — that is when love becomes fertile ground.

“You are becoming an environment, like a soil that is soft, moist and alive in which they can be who they chose to be. Not who you think they should be. Cause who are we to decide who they should be?”

“The most beautiful thing you can do for another is the work you do with yourself, so you can become that rich soil, that environment in which they can grow the way they need to grow.”

Not controlling the flower that grows there, not dictating the direction of its bloom. Just holding it, witnessing it and allowing it.

To love someone in this way means you offer presence, not pressure.

You become a ground that says, “You are safe here. You can fall apart or come together. You can become more of yourself. I will not abandon you in your becoming.”

It’s not passive.

It’s fiercely tender. Actively gentle.

It’s choosing to stay soft even when your own fears start to rise.

It’s resisting the urge to make someone heal faster or love you in return, and instead embodying love itself.

It took me decades to understand this rhythm, this flow, this appreciation in love.

It’s something I offer.

And in the offering, I come closer to who I really am.

The question I ask myself now is not “Do I feel loved?”

But rather: “Did I embody love today in my connections, in what I do, say, breathe?”

Did I love without condition? Without distortion?

Did I create a space that felt like freedom?

If so, then love is already alive — and it will do what love does best.

It will grow.

It will heal.

It will return, in its own time and way.

And I will already be rooted.

Blossom in love

The Gentle power of gratitude

Gratitude is not a mood—it’s a portal to all things possible.

It doesn’t deny discomfort, it transforms it.

It doesn’t ignore, it yields.

It meets what’s there and gives it somewhere to land.

Today I remembered something simple and sacred:

Gratitude is how I return to myself.

Even when insecurity creeps in.

Even when I don’t feel steady.

Even when I don’t yet understand.

Gratitude reminds me—life is still here, offering me breath, beauty, presence.

Today, I remembered the warmth that’s always available when I choose to see.

And in that seeing, something softens.

I don’t need all the answers. I just need this one moment—

To say thank you.

---

Affirmation:

Gratitude brings you home to yourself.

Thank you. I see it now.

evening reflections:Love knows itself

"Love is the recognition of yourself in another."

— Eckhart Tolle

"What you wish for yourself, first give to another."

— Neale Donald Walsch

These words may sound lofty at first — but really, they speak to something tender and human.

Love isn’t performance.

It isn’t perfection.

It’s not earned or proven.

Love is seeing.

It’s when you look at someone and, without effort, you recognize yourself — your essence as the same as another’s, it is your humanness.

That’s what Eckhart meant.

When the heart loves, it simply knows.

It sees and it gives — without needing permission.

Ram Dass said, “All the heart knows is to give. Here, take it all. It’s only when the mind steps in, that tricks it.”

And isn’t that true?

We love so easily… until the mind interrupts.

Until fear says: protect yourself.

Until memory says: don’t forget what happened last time.

Until doubt says: it’s not safe here.

And yet, love still wants to give.

Still wants to offer.

Still longs to extend itself like light.

And Neale Donald Walsch reminds us:

If you desire gentleness, offer gentleness.

If you long to be seen, see someone else.

If you ache for comfort, be a comfort.

This isn’t self-sacrifice, because it’s free.

It’s self-remembrance.

Because what you give with a true heart is one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced.

So tonight, if your heart feels a little raw, or a little open, or a little both —

Honor it.

Let it be what it is: wise, generous, whole.

When Light Meets Stillness

When Silence feels Loud

Some mornings arrive with a stillness that isn’t quiet at all.

It hums beneath the skin. It shakes in the bones. It brings a certain kind of ache — the kind that doesn’t have a name, only a presence.

I used to wonder if I was just too much — too sensitive, too expressive, too deep. I tried to soften my voice, hide my longing, speak only when I was sure it would be heard. I’ve since learned that none of that guarantees connection.

It turns out love isn’t measured by how quietly you wait.

Or how perfectly you express your need.

Or how beautifully you craft a message.

Sometimes it’s not about being clearer — it’s about realizing that clarity can still go unseen. And in those moments, what matters most is this:

Do I choose to stay soft inside my truth, even when it isn’t met?

Lately, I’ve stopped sending things just to feel closeness.

Not because I don’t want to connect,

but because I want to connect honestly.

I want it to feel safe. Reciprocal. Rooted in something deeper than habit or expectation.

So if you’re waking into a quiet that feels louder than usual, I’m with you.

And maybe — just maybe — that silence is where a new kind of voice begins to rise.

One that belongs to you.

One that doesn’t need to be answered to feel real.

Today’s Practice:

Place one hand on your heart chakra (middle of your chest), and one on your belly

Say softly: “Even in silence, I still hear myself.”

Affirmation: I trust the sound of my own truth.

Stillness allows for true creation.

What hides behind anxiety

Reflection: Anxiety. It’s a word we use often but rarely pause to question.

We say I’m anxious as if it’s the full story. But anxiety isn’t a root. It’s a symptom. A whisper of something deeper underneath.

Sometimes it masks fear. Other times: guilt, pressure, unspoken desire, unmet expectations. Almost always: it holds hands with a lack of trust — in ourselves, in others, in life.

So what if, instead of running from anxiety, we got curious?

Prompt Questions:

What might this anxiety be protecting me from?

What am I afraid will happen?

Where do I feel this in my body?

What would this feeling say if it could speak?

• Before we go further, I want to offer a subtle yet powerful shift: instead of saying “I AM ANXIOUS!”

  what if we softened it into “THERE’S ANXIETY”? This helps us step back from identification with the feeling, makes us the witness to it rather than becoming it. It allows us to observe the emotion without fusing with it. We are not our feelings - we are the awareness holding them. Let this small change become a doorway to presence.

Tapping Sequence: Releasing the Hidden Fear Beneath Anxiety

Setup (Karate Chop Point):

Even though I feel this anxiety, and I don’t fully know why, I deeply and completely accept myself.

Even though this tension is here, I’m open to the truth behind it — and I’m safe enough to listen.

Even though I feel anxious, I’m curious now… what’s really beneath this?

Tapping Points:

Eyebrow: This anxious feeling

Side of Eye: All this tightness

Under Eye: The fear underneath it

Under Nose: Maybe it's guilt or pressure

Chin: Maybe it's something I haven’t voiced

Collarbone: I honor what’s coming up

Under Arm: My body is speaking to me

Top of Head: I’m listening now

Eyebrow: What if this isn't just anxiety?

Side of Eye: What if it's a sign of something I can meet with love?

Under Eye: I give myself permission to slow down

Under Nose: To feel the root of this

Chin: I soften around the tension

Collarbone: I’m safe enough to feel

Under Arm: Safe enough to stay

Top of Head: Safe enough to let go

Re-check: Take a breath. Ask: Am I still feeling this?

If yes:

Are there good reasons for this fear?

Are they rooted in now, in the past or in the future?

Optional Second Round: Even though part of me is still holding this fear, I honor its protection — and I choose to make space for more trust.

Final tapping round:

I honor this feeling, and I also invite peace.

I don’t have to fix everything to soften.

Maybe I can let a little bit of this go.

Affirmation: "I am safe to listen. I am safe to feel. I trust myself to meet what's real."

Between Heaven and Earth - we are held.

Living is the practice

The purpose of life is to live it.

I know it’s a struggle for many — this constant reaching, searching, fixing.

But this morning, I’m remembering something simpler.

Something quiet and whole:

The point is to live.

Not perfectly.

Not endlessly improving.

Not only when the conditions are just right.

But to live — as in, to feel, to see, to listen, to breathe.

To love and let go. To soften and begin again.

To show up in your own body, in your own time.

Life isn’t waiting for you to become better.

It’s inviting you to be here.

To let your coffee go cold while you're lost in a thought.

To cry over something small and not make it mean you’re broken.

To laugh mid-chaos.

To fall in love with the moment that is — not the one you're chasing.

And maybe — just maybe — to say thank you.

Find a moment today to pause and say thank you to whatever is unfolding.

Step aside. Allow. Yield. Witness.

Then say thank you again.

Because every moment is a new you.

Every moment is a new frequency —

even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Just because something isn’t palpable,

just because it’s not perceived with the senses,

doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

Doesn’t mean it isn’t here.

---

Practice Prompt:

What does it mean for you to live fully today — not someday, but now?

Pick one tiny thing and honor it as sacred.

Then… say thank you.

Affirmation:

“I give myself permission to live — gently, messily, beautifully — just as I am.”

Be free

When it hurts and you remain soft

* A morning practice for reclaiming your light when emotions feel heavy. *

*Reflection

There are mornings when we wake up and the ache is still there. Not a scream, not a sob—just the silent hum of rawness beneath the ribs. Today is one of those mornings.

I’m writing this not from resolution, but from remembrance. That even now, even here, I can return to myself.

That I can pull back all the energy I sent outward, the longing, the wondering, the watching, and gather it like wild threads back into the weave of me.

This is not about cutting off.

This is about calling in.

Calling me back to me.

And in that, finding trust again.

---

* Practice Prompt

> Where is your energy lingering this morning that doesn’t feel rooted in you?

What happens when you gently call it back?

Close your eyes and whisper:

> “Come back home to me. It’s safe here.”

Let the breath guide your body back into this moment, into NOW.

---

* Tapping Sequence: Calling My Energy Back

Start by gently tapping the side of your hand just as long as you say the words, varies from 4-5 times to as many times as needed (karate chop point) while gently saying out loud:

> Even though I feel raw and uncertain, I honor this moment. And I choose to return to myself with kindness.

Move through the points (eyebrow - where the eyebrow starts forming, side of eye - outer corner, under eye - center, under nose - right above the lip, chin - right in the groove below your lower lip, collarbone - about two finger withs fron the center out, under arm - right below your armpits, one palm below the armpit, top of head):

Eyebrow - This ache in my chest

Side of eye - This wondering, this waiting

Under eye - This part of me that reaches outward

Under nose - I see it, I soften

Chin - And I call it back in

Collarbone - Back into my breath, my body, my grounded truth

Under arm - I’m safe here

Top of head - I’m loved here

Repeat gently, 2–3 rounds. End with hand over heart.

---

* Affirmation

> Even in uncertainty, I am whole.

My presence is power. My return is peace.

* Visualization: The Return of Light

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine this:

There are delicate threads of light extending from your body—reaching toward people you care about, situations that stir you, unanswered questions, memories. These threads are your thoughts, your longings, your care in motion.

Now—begin to feel each thread, one by one, slowly loosening... like golden elastic stretching back… and gently bouncing home.

Back to your chest.

Back to your belly.

Back to the soles of your feet and the palms of your hands.

Back to where you are, now.

Breathe in and feel your body filling with this light—no longer scattered, no longer searching.

You are whole here.

The return of energy back into the body

You have returned. You have chosen yourself.

A gentle detour

* A quiet shift from expectation to presence. *

This morning began with anticipation.

We ( my daughter and I ) were on our way to what would’ve been our very first golf lesson—something new, something lighthearted.

But the sky had other plans. Rain fell steadily, and with it came a quiet invitation to slow down.

We changed course. Found a nearby café. A soft landing instead of forward motion.

And there, in the pause, something subtle appeared—a familiar car crossing our path.

No exchange, just a quiet recognition. One of those unspoken alignments that hum beneath the surface.

But what lingered most wasn’t what I saw.

It was what I felt.

My breath deepened.

My body softened.

In the middle of a detour, I returned to presence.

It reminded me that beginnings don’t always look the way we expect.

And sometimes the first lesson is not in the swing, but in the surrender.

Today’s Companion Reflection:

What gentle reroute is life offering me today?

Symbol: Heartbeat

Affirmation:

Even in the shift, I am exactly where I’m meant to be.